


A Little Bit

by genee



Category: Bandom, Popslash
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-05-12
Updated: 2008-05-12
Packaged: 2017-10-15 21:41:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/165204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/genee/pseuds/genee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>The chairperson's reading How It Works and there's a guy behind him who can't stop fidgeting, and Gerard can't take his eyes off the way there's just the slightest swell to Britney's belly already, her hand covering it easily, chipped polish and bitten nails and Gerard picks at his ink-stained cuticles, tries hard to focus on this, on now.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	A Little Bit

**Author's Note:**

  * For [redandglenda](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=redandglenda).



> I asked my flist for prompts to ficlets i would never write, and redandglenda gave me Gerard/Britney: recovery and absolution, which wound up becoming something of a prequel to [Ordinary](http://archiveofourown.org/works/165046), although it's not really necessary to read that one first if you aren't the mood. Like Ordinary, the writing of this story pre-dates Bandit's birth, or she'd be in it, too.

They really haven't done this together all that often, not like this, not intentionally, although it used to happen every once in a while anyway, if they were in the same place at the same time. She'd walk into a meeting and Gerard would look up in time to see her pulling off her sunglasses, her hair in a messy ponytail, her smile soft and strangely shy. Somehow she's always both the messed up girl in the tabloids and the professional he's seen on stage, and at the same time he knows she's nothing like that, nothing like any of her images at all. It shouldn't be so strange to him, he's seen it a million times in his own damn mirror, but even now, even now he sometimes sees her and thinks, _holy shit, it's Britney Spears_ , and he hears Frank's stupid giggle in his head, and it's just completely ridiculous.

They're sitting in an AA meeting, and it's an LA nooner so the coffee is organic and almost certainly shade grown, and he's pretty sure those are Sprinkles cupcakes on the counter, and it's nothing like the meetings he goes to in Jersey, nothing like the meeting Britney took him to in Kentwood a few weeks ago, and still, it's pretty much exactly same. The chairperson's reading How It Works and there's a guy behind him who can't stop fidgeting, and Gerard can't take his eyes off the way there's just the slightest swell to Britney's belly already, her hand covering it easily, chipped polish and bitten nails and Gerard picks at his ink-stained cuticles, tries hard to focus on this, on now. Britney touches the edge of the book in his lap and smiles a little, and he can't help smiling back, blushing as he shifts a little closer.

He fucking drove her here, picked her up and kissed Lindsey in her pretty new kitchen and watched Brit's boys run around their backyard, and it's not even the most ridiculous part of this, it's not even close. Because he's a little bit in love with her right now, and he's still a little bit in love with his ex-wife, and he's way more than a little bit in love with the tiny bump hidden under Brit's blue-flowered sundress, so much more than a little bit that he actually fell asleep with his cheek pressed against her belly two nights ago, Lindsey curled around them, all bright colors and sweet sounds, her fingers combing through his hair.

It wasn't supposed to be like this, he knows it wasn't, it was just supposed to be a one time thing, two times, maybe, all planned out and perfectly scheduled, but it just didn't work out that way. It couldn't, not with Britney gasping underneath him, open and beautiful and completely alive, and Linds, God, Linds the way she used to be, so happy he could taste it on her, her lips, her cunt, the feel of her hands, joy written over every inch of her. He can't believe he'd forgotten this, the way she sounds after, can't believe he gets to see it again, gets to see this, them, and he just knows it's right, all of their legs tangled together and Britney's mouth on his, Lindsey's, too. But it's still ridiculous, it's still completely ridiculous, because they trusted him enough to ask and he couldn't say no, he couldn't, but this isn't at all what was supposed to happen. It's _not_.

Brit holds his hand when they say the Lord's Prayer at the end of the meeting and doesn't let go until she's sliding into his car again. She's got this great little laugh and he likes the way her fingers dance over his forearm, his thigh, the back of his hand, like she doesn't even know she's doing it. And he fucking loves the way she touches her belly now, the way her eyes light up when they talk about Lindsey, about her boys, about the baby. They stop at Starbucks and he brings her something made with vanilla soymilk and without any trace of caffeine, and she sticks her tongue out at him but she drinks it anyway, bright green straw bitten all to hell and her window rolled down, her bare feet wiggling on the dashboard. She smiles like eighteen assholes didn't take her picture while she threw up on the side of the road this morning, and he smiles, too, and it's completely ridiculous.

Lindsey's making dinner tonight and Britney's singing along with the radio, soft and real, and Gerard's heart is beating way too fucking fast. Brit and Lindsey are crazy in love with each other and are totally having his baby, and he's pretty sure there's no way this doesn't end badly for him, no way at all, but he's really not sorry, either. He's pretty sure they're both a little bit in love with him, too.

 

 

\-- End --


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